


Laughter is the Best Medicine

by rhydonculous



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Animal Abuse, Cannibalism, Dark Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I'm seriously playing fast and loose with canon, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pretty much the only things that are canon are the names and hopefully personas of the characters, Vaginal Sex, and boy is it dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhydonculous/pseuds/rhydonculous
Summary: A vicious new serial killer is to become Arkham's newest patient, and the administration couldn't be more excited.  For her part, she's just trying to get by on an empty stomach and get along with her fun loving new flat mates.  What follows is a gory, traumatizing comedy of errors.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will be from the point of view of a specific character, and italics indicate that character's inner monologue.   
> In this chapter, warnings for animal abuse and masturbation.

Dr. Hugo Strange tried and failed to hide his excitement from the guards at his left and right. His heart had been hammering in his chest since the call had woken him at 3:19 that morning. He had read “Superintendent Mason” off his caller ID, groaned, coughed to clear the exhaustion from his voice, and lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Good evening, Superintendent. How may I help you?” he intoned, neutrally.

“Hugo, GPD caught The Ghoul.”

Hugo Strange sat bolt upright, his eyes searching the darkness of his bedroom and settling on the wall beside his desk, where he knew a multitude of newspaper clippings were tacked to his wall. He had been following The Ghoul’s exploits for the last three months. Wedging the phone between his head and shoulder, he pressed the thin fingers of his left hand to his right wrist. _125 beats per minute. I AM excited, aren’t I? This could be it! He’s coming to Arkham! He’s mine!_

“I see.” he droned, keeping any hints of interest or impatience from his voice.

“There are already three dead guards over at lockup, and forty-five minutes ago I got a call from the regional commissioner pushing through the emergency transfer.” Came the Superintendent’s tired, annoyed voice through the receiver.Strange felt like kicking off his quilt and dancing.He was unsurprised to feel his penis had become partially erect against his thigh.Unable to contain his energy, he swung his legs to the floor and padded his way from the bedroom to his office.He flipped on the light, and headed over to his cats.

“I understand you have provided, ah, special accommodations for patients in the past,” Mason continued.

“If you referring to Mr. Fries and Mr. Cobblepot, we were able to keep them alive if not entirely comfortable during their treatment,” replied Strange, double checking the clipboard hanging to the right of the enclosure, blocking the mouthpiece against the pathetic mewling coming from within.“We have so far been able to provide environmental modifications based on any special needs our patients may possess.”

“Right, good, good.”the Superintendent had sounded distracted. 

The doctor’s glasses still lay on his bedside table, so it was necessary for him to hold the syringe and flask a few inches in front of his nose as he measured out exactly 20 grams of the protein paste, and squeezed it into a petrie dish.

“What specific modifications will be necessary?”he asked.Lifting the main lid, Dr. Strange crouched to set down the mush in the central, walled off portion of the enclosure, finding it necessary to cover the receiver with his palm to block out the hissing and scrabbling that ensued.He stood and lowered the lid, his eyes growing fractionally wider as he listened to what would be needed to house his newest project.“I see,” he responded as the Superintendent finished his list.His hands were occupied lifting the barriers that separated each of his cats from the single dish, but he guessed his pulse to be around 140, nearly 2.5x it’s resting state.

He stood back as the two rake thin felines attacked each other, careful to block out their caterwauling from his superior (in title).Flecks of blood and fur struck the glass with minute tapping sounds.“This should be no problem, Superintendent.I will need 24 hours to prepare.” The white cat had retreated to the far left corner of its box, looking as though its littermate may have severed a tendon in it’s rear right leg.It panted weakly, blood seeping from a myriad small wounds across its patchy fur.The victorious orange cat was licking clean the dish it had dragged to the right side of the enclosure. 

“Well, you have six.They want the transfer pushed through ASAP.While the official line is that The Ghoul was apprehended by Gotham’s finest, I suspect Batman’s involvement.From the what I’ve learned in the last 45 minutes, I don’t think any ordinary police could have pulled it off, and they’re certainly not equipped to manage her long term.”

Dr. Hugo Strange had been carefully recording the mass of food administered, the specimen that had won the prize, and the time of the trial when his careful scratching stopped. _Her?The Ghoul is female._

“Understood.All will be prepared in six hours.” _The Ghoul is female._

“Right, good.She’ll be arriving at 10:00AM sharp, so get to work.”

“Yes, Super-“ the line clicked dead.The doctor carefully set the phone down to rest.He focused to relax his white knuckled grip on it, and lift the pen that dangled from a string on the clipboard to finish taking his notes.His heart was not in it, though.When the orange cat would realize it could spare itself pain and gain itself meat by killing its brother no longer interested Strange that night.Still, an incredibly rare smile curled his lips as he wrote the date: December 18th. _The Ghoul is coming to Arkham in six hours.She is female.I will be her psychiatrist and entirely in control of her care.And today is my birthday._

The doctor clicked the pen and set the clipboard back on the wall, and with an almost imperceptible bounce in his step he padded to the kitchen to start the kettle.As he made his way to the bathroom, he reached down to wrap his thick-fingered fist around his now fully erect member.He had indulged himself in manual stimulation maybe once or twice in the last five years, ordinarily considering such base pursuits beneath him.Now he allowed his hand to slide up his shaft and squeeze the exposed head, a bead of precum smearing along a ruddy knuckle.He stepped into the hot, steaming shower, moaning as a droplet struck his sensitive tip. _It is my birthday, after all,_ he thought, as he stroked himself to completion.

Six hours, eight phone calls, and a highly unusual amount of nervous pacing from the doctor found him outside the admitting wing at Arkham.An unmarked armored vehicle rolled to a stop,the wrought iron and stone gates shutting behind it. Three men in full tac suits slid from the front to approach the doctor, their assault weapons trained at the ground.As they neared him, the Superintendent came through the heavy steel door that was the entrance to the hospital proper,stepped in front of him, and grasped the hand that had been proffered to Hugo Strange. 

“I’m Superintendent Richard Mason, I’ll be overseeing the transfer.This is our Head Psychiatrist Dr. Hugo Strange, who will be overseeing the patient’s care.” The masked officer looked between the two of them, and then took stock of the six guards flanking them.A frown creased his square face, but Strange was curious to see he kept whatever reservations struck him to himself. 

“Lieutenant Graves.We’ll be transferring the inmate to your custody now, sir.”

“Patient,” the doctor intoned mildly. “She’s a patient.”

The lieutenant’s frown deepened, but he wordlessly turned to the armored vehicle and walked around the back, his men and he raising their weapons to attention.He slammed his open hand three times, paused, and once more against the rear doors.As they creaked open, four more men fanned out from the back, keeping their weapons trained on something within.Beneath the door, Strange saw a pair of tiny, shackled feet hit the gravel.

“Step forward” barked Graves, and Strange saw five pairs of boots hit the gravel behind her as her halting steps led her toward the lieutenant. 

As the group turned the corner, Hugo Strange was unable to prevent the gasp that escaped his suddenly slack jaw. _The Ghoul is a juvenile!_ was his immediate thought.He quickly amended that, though, as through her baggy jumpsuit he was able to detect a mature female physique.Her head was lowered, and face obscured by a mess of brown, filthy hair, but from what he could tell she looked to be in her late teens or early twenties.She appeared to be between 132 and 134 cm, and an emaciated 40 kg.It was surreal to see her surrounded by eleven grown men in full tactical gear and assault rifles, all trained on her slight, shackled frame. _What do we have here?_ The twelfth man, lieutenant Graves, approached the Superintendent and drew a folded paper from one of the many pockets on his black trousers.

“Please sign on the line, sir.” he said, handing it to the man that Strange was gratified to see looked as nonplussed as he felt.Pulling a pen from his pocket, Mason scribbled at the bottom before the paper was quickly snatched back, carefully folded, and tucked back into the man’s pocket.He raised his fist, and all of his men carefully backed away from their charge, keeping their guns trained on her as they moved in unison toward their vehicle.

As they retreated, the Arkham guards, suddenly looking apprehensive in their simple cotton uniforms with their wooden clubs, moved toward the young woman who had remained unnaturally still through the whole exchange.Her head remained lowered, her shoulders hunched, all movement restricted to the ratty nest atop her head, flitting in the frigid December breeze. 

Sensing an opportunity, the doctor spoke in an authoritative and pleasant tone, “Please stand down gentleman.”Though his eyes were locked onto the slight form before him, he heard the doors to the transfer vehicle slam, and the gates creak open to permit their rapid departure. 

Slowly, cautiously, his heart pounding out its joy while he remained as outwardly professional as ever, he approached The Ghoul, mentally humming, _Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…_


	2. A Laugh in the Dark

Anna was starving.The men she had killed in the night had been dispatched in a panic when she regained consciousness and they had tried to put the chains on her.It was taking a good deal of concentration to block out the roaring of the transport’s engine, the brightness of the morning sun, the grinding of the new man’s footsteps, and the frantic tempo of his heart.She needed to eat. 

“Good morning, miss.My name is Doctor Hugo Strange.Please follow me inside so we can make you more comfortable.” he said in a loud, if pleasant voice.  "Everything is going to be alright, now."

She kept her eyes down and saw only his highly polished black shoes and the hem of a white lab coat over crisp brown pants. _This man lies_ , she considered.His voice and vitals were contradictory.She inhaled. _Fear?No.Excitement.Escape?Not possible.Compliance is necessary.Purpose for his approach?Most likely to establish trust.He could be testing to see what I’m capable of.Why would he want to establish trust?Why would he want to test me?Most likely answers to both are control.Compliance for now._

Anna gave a small nod, and heard the man’s already elevated heart rate tick up a notch. _Oh yeah, you’re just a regular Freud, aren’t you fucker?_ She fell into step behind him, clenching her jaw against the grating of the door and squeak of the guards’ shoes as they left the gravel and stepped onto the flecked, grey linoleum of Arkham. 

Anna kept her eyes down, but counted 582 of her shackled paces before they took a left and reached the first gated check point.

“I’ll be leaving you here, Hugo.” said one of the sets of shoes.He had an air of authority and used informal names, she noted, along with how he entered a door on their right as they continued through the first gate.

“Your room is on sub-level one.Depending on your good behavior and positive progress in therapy over the coming weeks, you may be moved to either the second or third floors, and given access to the yard.Depending on any infractions, you may be moved to one of the lower basements, and your movements restricted beyond what they are.” 

Another 275 paces brought them to a gated stairwell.As she descended and the light dimmed, Anna raised her eyes to take stock of the men around her.The largest one looked about 6’4”, 270 lbs.Based on their movements, she decided the fastest was the one to her left.Were she not about to collapse from hunger, she knew she would dispatch these two first.The doctor was of medium build, about 5’11”, with close cropped brown hair.He walked in front of her, so she couldn’t see his face to get a more accurate read on his age. 

They reached one more gate at the landing to the first sub basement.There were two guards at either side of the doorway, one of which moved to unlock the barred door. 

“Once we enter your floor, you will go through standard delousing procedure, which I am sorry to saying is reportedly unpleasant.”Anna could tell that none of the sympathy he injected into this statement was genuine.“You will be given a clean uniform, and then led to your room.Once there, you will be brought a meal.”

Abruptly, Anna stopped.The guards surrounding her immediately had their clubs in hand and assumed defensive postures.The doctor turned, and Anna saw his face for the first time.  He wore thick glasses, and the heavy lines on his forehead and around his mouth placed him in his late forties or early fifties.His eyes were slate grey, and wore an expression of calm detachment until he met her gaze.Not a single muscle twitched in his face, but his pupils dilated to turn his grey eyes almost entirely black. 

“Jesus fuck, look at her eyes…” the fast one on her left had spoken.She zoned in on his heart rate and scent.She caught the astringent, spoiled scent of abject fear. _This man is honest_ , she thought.Nobody moved for a second, and then the doctor blinked. He turned back to the guard who had frozen with his keys hovering near the locked door.

“Accommodations have been made concerning your diet.Please let us in, Peters.” 

Anna lowered her eyes, and heard the clanging of the guard’s keys in his shaking hand. _Peters_ , she thought. 

Anna remained motionless as she was hosed down, turning when the was ordered to.She remained passive as her suit was velcroed on around the shackles, and focused to keep each muscle relaxed and still as a guard forced a comb through her hair.

“Huh, you’re a redhead” he said, yanking the plastic through her tangles. “what, were you usingshit for shampoo?” he chuckled under his breath.She didn’t react, but followed the doctor and her entourage of guards to her cell.It was an 8’x8’x8’ cube with three walls of stone meeting the linoleum floor and stone ceiling, and one wall of thick steel bars allowing minimal privacy for its occupant.Inside was a cot ( _rubber frame, tearable sheets_ ), and a small metal sink connected to a small metal toilet ( _no seat_ ).She stepped in when the door was opened, and remained still when it was closed behind her.She followed the doctor’s instructions to back up against the bars so her restraints could be removed from the safety of the hallway. 

She remained with her back to the doctor as he spoke. “Some gentleman will be brining your refreshment momentarily.I invite you to make yourself comfortable, and look forward to our first session tomorrow at 9:00.Good day, miss.”She heard seven pairs of feet walk away; three left to go upstairs, one headed downstairs, and the other two walked into a room off her hallway with a near deafening electrical hum. 

Anna retreated to the corner behind the bed, breathing deeply in an attempt to drown out the sound of the world around her. _What a mess._ Maybe five minutes, and maybe five hours passed as she crouched there, hungry and reflecting on every choice and circumstance that had brought her to this cell.Eventually she heard the approach of two men coming down the hallway and crept back out to the bars.She stood in the center of her cell, her back to the bars, trying to appear as small and still as possible. 

“Jeez, you don’t move much, do you?It’s alright to relax.”It was the fast one.Judging by the other set of steps that had accompanied him, he was joined by the big one. _Shit.This is a test.Options?Eat, or don’t eat.Need food.Almost certainly under surveillance, risky to expose myself.Shit.Keep it low key._

“Back toward the bars,” said the other voice. “Hands behind your back, legs together.We’re going to put your restrains back on, and then open the door.You will remain still while we do it, and follow our instructions.”

Slowly, Anna complied.As she felt the cool metal close around her, a surge of anger and disappointment flushed through her. _Shit.No chance to play it low key now.This is going to hurt._ The moment she heard the door open, she moved.

She pulled her left hand from the cuff, partially degloving it and dislocating both her thumb and pinky.She spun, thrusting her mangled hand into the chest of the fast one.Agonizingly, her three functional fingers broke through rib and cartilage to grasp the man’s hot, beating heart.Mercifully she plunged her fingers into the thudding muscle before tearing it forcefully from his chest.She dropped to her knees, and from this angle had the slack in her chains to reach the big ones left knee cap.She dug her fingers in around the patella, and pulled it from the surrounding connective tissue.She heard the man’s femur and tibia grind together for a moment before he collapsed in a heap in the hallway.Lunging, she sank her teeth into his windpipe and pulled it free from his throat.The noise in the hallway was near deafening.Voices from the other cells were clamoring around her, but she was too hungry to understand them.She pulled both of the guards into her cell, closed her door, and began to eat.She started with the heart and shortly thereafter felt the telltale tingle of her torn flesh mending itself on her left hand.

Anna was chewing through the big one’s right bicep, her last mouthful sliding thickly down her throat when her head cleared enough to notice a black tray in the hallway containing several slabs of raw, red meat.They were laid atop each other almost artfully, with a paper napkin and plastic cutlery to the side.They were cleanly cut, drained of blood, and distinctly human. 

_Oh.Damn it.These guys probably weren’t the refreshment._

She pulled the left arm from the big one, separating it from the trunk at the shoulder.She sank her teeth to maximum depth and peeled away the bicep, slowly chewing and slurping it down while ruminating her general situation. _If this was a test, I failed.If it wasn’t a test, I made it a test, and failed.Ohhh, goodness._

Anna chewed more slowly as the syncopated thudding of booted feet drew near.Keeping her gaze low, she noted a row of guards in heavy gear spread out shoulder-to-shoulder in front of her cell.She swallowed, and dropped her meal.Telegraphing each movement, she carefully wiped her sleeve against her mouth to try and clear away some of the mess..Slowly, deliberately, as non-threateningly as possible, she stood from her crouch over the big one.She turned to face the far wall, laced her fingers behind her, and backed toward the bars until she felt them strike her palms and heels.She waited. 

_Just go away.I’m not a threat, this is all a big misunderstanding, just go away._

Amidst the muted thrum of breathing and heartbeats, she heard the familiar clack and squeak of highly polished dress shoes. 

“Well.Sub-level five it is then.” the doctor’s voice droned behind her.Sated as she was, she couldn’t hear his heart beat.She would have needed to eat an army, however, to miss the heady scent of arousal that clung to the man like a heat haze on an August asphalt. _Ew.Plan?Escape?_ She heard and smelled the approach of a tall, heavy man with diabetes before she felt the sting of the needle in her neck. _The new big one_ … she thought as the grey floor turned black and she slid to meet it. 

  

Anna woke to pain, nausea, and laughter.Pain radiated from the fingertips of her right hand up to her elbow.She squinted down at herself.Whatever sedative they had given her was slow to leave her system, and she found it difficult to focus her vision.The dark would ordinarily have posed no issue, but she needed to sway her head to make out the thinly muscled bones that sprung from the stumps where her pinky and ring fingers used to be. _Revenge for the refreshment.And another test.They’ll know I can regrow, now, if they didn’t from before.This is going to hurt._ She fought to keep the nausea from making her vomit what sustenance she had only so recently gained, and couldn’t afford to lose. 

Needing a distraction, she focused on the laughter.It was almost certainly coming from another cell.Testing her balance, she crept along the floor from wall to wall, disturbed to discover that now three of them were made of some kind of plastic at least 3” thick, and the fourth of the familiar stone.She used what limbs she had to feel out the stone ceiling. _6’x6’x7’._ Rather than a cot, there was a straw pallet and threadbare blanket on the floor.She was unable to locate a pillow. _Damnit, Anna.How do you not notice a tray of food?_

Sighing, she allowed herself to hear.The laughter was coming from some 36’ to her left.It was too dim to make out the source, but she could tell it was a sleeping man of probably medium to large size.The throaty chuckles, deep belly guffaws, and sharp yips struck her as genuine.They changed frequently, and didn’t seem to follow a rhythm like most of the laughter she had heard. Briefly, she sought the memory of her last laugh.Not liking her inability to summon it, she focused instead on the dreamer.He kept laughing.Divorced as his sounds were from any context, the longer he laughed the stranger they sounded to her keen ears. _What is it called… what… Semantic satiation!That’s what it’s called._

The laughter continued until she thought of it as it’s own language.Idly, she tried to find the story in it. _What is he dreaming?I would like those dreams._

Rolling up the end of her pallet as a makeshift pillow, she wrapped herself in her blanket. Anna focused on the waves of mirth drifting toward her and rode them into a steady sleep. 


	3. Marinski: Gone too Soon

The Joker dreamed.The skyscrapers of Gotham’s downtown were submerged in sand, their crumbling tops bleached white and green in the sun.Chunks of concrete fell from their art deco facades and turned to grains of sand as they struck his hair.He stalked from shadow to shadow with exaggerated sneaking steps.“Here, batty batty bat bat…What belfry have you flown off to now? It’s fallen!THEY’RE GONE” he roared, “AND THEY NEVER LOVED YOU!”

His creep became a stroll, became a frolic as he passed the husk of Gotham National Bank.The gargoyles were in various states of decrepitude, all sporting a healthy amount of red lipstick around their fanged leers.

“How many times have I robbed you?” His white hand looked oddly cracked to him as he stroked one of the tilted pillars like a lover’s face.“Remember when I rigged the explosive to detonate with ANY signal, and warned the hostages not to call for help?Pollack would have been proud of that splatter!”His fingernails fell away as he turned to move on and continue the hunt.

The buildings grew wider, the sides streets narrower, until they were the walls of a labyrinth.Water began to lap over the sand, soaking through his purple Oxfords and making his feet heavy as he turned corner after corner.

 _“_ Where is my sweet Sarah Williams?Are you Theseus or my minotaur, Batsy? PLAY WITH ME!”His challenge was thunder echoing down the walls of the maze, but dampered in the end by the heightening water.It was nearly up to his waist now.He pulled a face, reaching a hand into his mouth.One of his molars popped loose in his fingers, and he flipped it nimbly to examine the shining, overlong roots. 

The clown’s laughter rose with the water.“I’m here for the Aquabats, but I can’t find my plus one!” His feet were fixed in the sand below him, the windows in the walls were glassless, reflecting nothing.The water began to lap at his chin.With a final cackle, he ducked his head and began to drink the salty, coppery sea.

  

 

The fluorescents kicked on at 6:00 AM, sending their light to strike against the Joker’s blackened eyelids.Squinting, he gave a jaw cracking yawn, and rose from his pallet to greet what passed for a morning in Arkham’s deepest pit.Though he may be surrounded by smudged, bullet proof plastic, may be unlikely to receive his favorite breakfast of peach pancakes, and was certainly not going to be able to sink himself into his broken little Harley’s quim, he knew it was going to be a glorious day.For one, he had a new friend in level five who should have woken from their little Haloperidol nap.Secondly, he was going to get to shower today.Thirdly, and most importantly, after the shower he was going to escape. 

It had taken him only two weeks to pick Officer Jesse Marinski as his mark.He was oh so kind to his charges.Joker had been near pissing himself with laughter as Ivy was strangling The Zookeeper. She had been strangling the man with vines after some cook had been short-sighted enough to have SEEDED watermelon on the menu.  The vines were springing out of his tray like some Lovecraftian portal and throttling the idiot.  The Joker had been sitting right next to Ivy, and had  seen the vessels burst in his eyes, had seen the soft skin of his throat tear beneath the rough bark.That was when Marinski stepped in, agile as a mongoose in avoiding the spit and makeshift projectiles Ivy had tossed his way.He’d been so respectful, so reasonable.  He swore that he would “ignore this incident” so she might not lose her time in the yard, in the sun, if she’d just let the little maniac loose.She did ease off the stranglehold and let the moron slump to the table, and Officer Buzzkill had swooped in to give him some much needed CPR and wound pressure.Like a seedling to sunshine, Ivy responded well to respect and fair treatment.The last he had heard, she was living in luxury on level three, having had no more episodes of botanical recidivism since Jesse-boy’s intervention.

 Marinski had received an official commendation from the superintendent for that maneuver.Word had it, the man was a true believer in the justice system:compassionate treatment of mental illness and rehabilitation of the criminal. _But you fell, Jesse.You fell like we all fall,_ he thought, stepping over to what passed for a sink to rinse the night’s foulness from his mouth.After a few of his more artistic endeavors with the guards, the good doctor had decided the Joker could be trusted with neither toothbrush nor toothpaste. _They’re gonna ruin my smile…_ “Haha heee, ha.”

There were three guards whose after-work activities included donning circus attire and rampaging through Gotham as loyal subjects in the Clown Prince’s court, but none of them had ever DIRECTLY helped him escape.They were far too valuable to so recklessly risk their exposure.  They gave him information.Also, he had far more fun corrupting the virtuous than exploiting the corrupt.

Jesse Marinski had a teenage son named Ronny.Ronny Marinski was about to start his junior year in high school.Ronny was NOT the sharpest knife in the drawer; at eighteen he’d already been held back twice and seemed to have as little prowess socially as he did academically.No girlfriend, no boyfriend, no friends period.Naturally, he’d sicced Harley on the Kid.Simple seduction and blackmail; get the kid so scared of embarrassment he turns to crime, lean on daddy to save his son. That had been the plan.

The boy had been utterly uninterested in Harley.Rather than assume the he was gay, or asexual, or just not interested in his bubbly, flexible minion, the clown had had an inkling. According to reports, the kid’s hard drive was a goldmine.He liked boys.Young boys.Very illegally young boys.Also, he was clearly a collector.He had terabytes worth of what he liked.Some of it even appeared to feature Jesse’s five year old nephew, and take place in Ronny’s bedroom.

After getting ahold of the laptop, his minions had offered Ronny a choice: sell the cocaine where and when you’re told, or face the music.Ronny had blubbered and acquiesced.Predictably.Boringly.

The Joker had chosen cocaine as the vessel for the elder Marinski’s destruction very carefully.After observing, listening, and even sharing a few laughs with the man, he could just tell that the guard saw himself as the life of the party.He’d understand dealing coke. Sure, he’d done a New Year’s eight ball once or twice in his time.Would he turn to protect his son, the molester?Iffy.Would he turn to protect his son, the coke dealer?Why yes, yes he would.

When he was approached with photographs of his son dealing cocaine to high school kids, sure he’d raged.Sure, he’d threatened the messenger with both beatings and legal action before turning to bribery.Of course they assured him they’d make the pictures go away.All he had to do was bring a Torx screw driver to work with him on December 19th, and make sure it was in his sock when he escorted his level 5 prisoner for his morning shower.That was all he had to do, and the pictures would disappear.His son would NOT be charged with a felony.

He had flatly refused, of course.The Joker’s henchman had told him they’d give him 72 hours to reconsider, and pointed out that the pictures were taken in a high school.Judges don’t like drugs in schools, you know. 

The next day had been exquisite for the painted mastermind.Poor, hard-working Jesse had been pale and twitchy, but courteous as always.He’d caved after only six hours, the Joker had heard. He had laughed for so long he thought his vocal chords might snap like cat gut on an old violin.Of course, once he had used the screwdriver to enter the ventilation system and made his way to freedom, he had every intention of exposing the elder Marinski as a collaborator in the escape of a spree-killing, devilishly handsome genius, and the younger Marinski as a coke-slinging, kiddy diddling pervert.It was just so beautiful, and so funny. 

 _Today is the day_ , he thought with a chuckle.He finished his morning shit, tied the arms of his onesie around his waist leaving his pale, toned chest bare, stretched, and began his workout regimen. A scraping noise made him halt mid-push up and jerk to his feet. _Oh yeah!Company!_

Spreading his arms, The Joker pressed himself flush against the wall of his suite and peered down the corridor toward the opposite end.

“Good morning, Starshine!”he called, excited to see who warranted the sedation and armed escort he’d witnessed the previous afternoon.“Can I borrow a cup of sugar?”

No one approached the glass, but he swore he heard a soft snort of amusement.His scarred lips stretched wide in a yellow toothed smile. _Is that Selena?Is Ivy back? It can’t be Ivy, I don’t think she’s ever laughed in her life.She doesn’t want to play anymore, anyway._ “Heeere, kitty kitty,” he called out, clicking his tongue against his incisors.“Don’t be shy, come say hi!”

The woman who stepped forward was vastly different than the one he was expecting.She was at least half a foot shorter than the Cat, whose skin-tight vinyl would have been comically large on this petite femme.He saw a curly crop of red hair framing her pale young face, though distance and angle made it hard to see much detail. _Well well well, who in the fuck is this?_ _Level five?What can you do, and how can I play with it?_

“Ahoy there!” he called down to her.He saw a widening sliver of teeth, a waxing moon of a smile spread across her face.

There were only two ways to get to sub-level five in Arkham: kill a guard, or embarrass Hugo. _Ooo, maybe she killed Hugo!_ “Please tell me you killed Hugo!”

This was answered with a hearty chuckle, lovely and open.With a wide grin and hands relaxed on her hips, she looked up at him and opened her mouth to respond.She didn’t utter a sound however, just froze and cocked her head as though listening.After a moment, Joker watched her smile vanish before she abruptly backed away from the glass.Seconds later, the faint creak of metal on metal alerted him to the arrival of his escort. _She’s got a good set of ears on her.Anyway, it’s showtime._ Their blurred shapes came clear as they rounded the corner of the cell block. 

A hot stab of fury-laced confusion made all laughter die in the Joker’s throat.As the two guards neared him, they gave a wide berth to the only other occupied cell and shared a dark look before the one in front cleared his throat and reached for his key card.He recognized officers Skelton and Kelly from both their long acquaintance in Arkham and their loyal service in crime.As much as the man was able to, the Joker considered them friends.However, on this morning, the sight of them filled him with disgust.Neither of them were Marinski.

Skelton injected as much authority into his voice as he could, but was unable to totally mask his panic when he ordered the Joker to turn and bring his hands toward the panel in the front of the cell.Through the fury that was building with every second, the clown felt his paean’s hands shake as he fastened the shackles around his wrists.As he walked down the alleyway between cells toward the gate that would bring him out of the block, he focused on keeping his pace steady and not attacking the quaking men that helmed him.When the door to the showers closed behind them, he felt the steel leave his wrists as one of the men went to turn the water on full blast.

“Where… THE FUCK… is Marinski?” He was staring at Skelton, whose eyes widened in terror as he dropped his keys to the wet white tile.

Somehow the Joker’s pale hand had wrapped around the smaller man’s throat, and he had his blue clad back pressed against the wall of the shower.A thin stream of blood began to trickle from the corner of little man’s mouth.The red began to spread out, bleeding onto the walls and into the air and light surrounding the man’s drawn, horrified face, as the sound of the water became the sound of screaming in the Joker’s ears _Where is he where the fuck is he, i had him he was mine WHERE IS HE BRING HIM TO ME I PICKED HIM-_

“He’s dead, sir.”

Confused for a moment at how the bloodied, unconscious man in his hands had spoken, the Joker suddenly remembered Kelly’s presence.Dropping the one, he turned to the other.

Kelly stood to the right of the steaming jets of water that pounded the tiled floor, drowning out their conversation for any hidden recording devices that Hugo may have installed.Unlike Skelton, Kelly looked wary, but nowhere near hysterics.He was in his early thirties, sallow, stocky, and had the calculating eyes of a predator considering the best route of escape from a fire.He was a level headed psychopath, a wonderful addition to the Joker’s circus.The man’s demeanor served to calm him, somewhat. The ringmaster took several deep breaths, and finally let out a chuckle, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. 

“Can you repeat that for me, please?”

“He’s dead.He was killed last night by a new prisoner, the one we moved into your cell block last night.They’re saying she’s The Ghoul.She killed Marinski and Lewis with her bare hands, and when we got there, she…” the man had trailed off.The Joker waited, the anger coursing through him having been temporarily replaced by surprise and a growing curiosity.“I’m pretty sure she was eating them, sir.”

A cold thrill ran down his shoulders.He considered this information, trying to decide what to do with it.He continued to breathe deeply.The anger was still there.She had, very simply, stolen from him.She had stolen his victim, his time, and his fun.He began to pace back and forth, kicking off his standard issue slippers as he did so. _She looked like she was about a hundred pounds._

“There’s more, sir.” 

“Go on, Kelly, go on,” he continued to pace.

“You know I was the one that followed Marinski’s kid?I mean, I worked that case for you, sir.I dug through his computer, I spoke to him, I got him to crack… Well, I put in a lot of work on this.I was pissed off last night.I… when we were securing her to the gurney, I… I cut off a couple of her fingers.” 

The Joker froze, and fixed his gaze on the man before him.

“No one saw me, I’m quick with a knife you know that. And there was so much blood anyway, and it coulda happened when she slipped the cuffs… I’m sorry, sir.It was risky, I know. But I was pissed.Anyway, no one saw.But that’s not what’s important sir.”He took a deep breath.“Almost as soon as I cut ‘em off, the bones started… they started growing back.”

Unaware that his mouth had been hanging open, the Joker snapped it shut. 

“I know what I saw, boss.They started growing back right as I looked at ‘em.By the time we dropped her in her cell, they were already starting to get… I dunno, veiny.”The usually unflappable Kelly looked a little nauseous.

As soon as he had seen Kelly and Skelton that morning, he knew he wasn’t getting out that day.He was not terribly bothered by that aspect of the previous day’s events.Idly, the Joker began to pull apart the velcro that held together the top of his jumpsuit.“Kelly, did you see if Marinski had the screwdriver on him?”

“He did, boss.”Quickly, the man pulled it from his pocket and held it out to the Joker.It had a shiny green handle and unblemished chrome.It had clearly been bought recently, and never used.

“Huh,” the clown pulled his arms through the sleeves and began to work on opening the legs of the trousers. _Well, he broke.He knew what he was going to do today.He got in his car, and drove to the store.He probably wore sunglasses, not wanting to be recognized while he collaborated in the escape of a prisoner.He’ll never find out about his son…_ Another flame of anger licked at the edges of his consciousness, _but he never got to think he’d saved him, either.And, he got eaten._ The Joker let out a bark of a laugh, pulling free from his jumpsuit and enjoying the feel of the steamy air against his naked skin.“I’m going to want to have a chat with my thieving ginger of a neighbor.I’m going to need a power outage tomorrow night.Make it happen.”

The Joker briskly approached his henchman, who looked a combination of relief and resignation, and punched him full in the face.The skin of his cheek split beneath the knuckles of his master, and he let out a grunt as he fell.“Now get the fuck out of here, I’m taking a shower.”Clutching his face, the man rose to his feet and staggered from the room.

With a sigh, the Joker stepped beneath the hot spray, luxuriating in the heat and allowing it to sap away the remaining tension in his back and shoulders.He reached beside him and took a handful of the multipurpose soap from the soft rubber dispenser, running it through his tangled hair and over his chest.In eight minutes, his lackey would walk into the guard station and collapse in a melodramatic heap, telling them that he had only just regained consciousness after Skelton, that idiot, had unshackled the Joker while his own back was turned.He’d been too dazed to hit the alarm outside the door to the showers, a forgivable lapse in protocol under the traumatic circumstances.They’d raise the alarm, putting the whole facility on lockdown.They’d arm themselves with tasers, clubs, and syringes to subdue the madman on the loose.In ten minutes, they’d burst through the door to check on poor, stupid Skelton, by which time he should be clean and dressed, and ready for a little drug-induced nap time.

Nine minutes later, he was slipping back into the clean orange onesie that Skelton had brought from the stockroom.He looked over at the man, still out cold, with whirls of red drifting away from the back of his head toward the drain in the center of the floor.Purple welts had already sprung up at his neck.The Joker gripped his hair and lifted his head off the tile, observing the damage.The creamy whiteness of skull was visible through a laceration in the scalp, but he saw no cracks.None of the pinkish grey gelatin of the man’s brain. _He better live_. _He has work to do._ The Joker chuckled, running a long white finger around the edge of the wound, gathering blood on its tip.He ran it around his scarred lips, making due with Arkham’s limited resources to keep his look fresh.He leanedagainst the wall opposite the door and slid to a sitting position, listening to the approaching clatter of many hurried footsteps. _What am I going to do with the new girl?Well, there’s plenty of time to figure that out._


	4. A Meeting of Minds

Hugo Strange considered himself an excellent judge of character.Working among the mentally deranged for thirty years had afforded him ample opportunity to observe the extremes of human behavior, and he did his best to learn something new every day.A schizophrenic man making terroristic threats had claimed that special agents working for Barack Obama implanted tracking devices in his teeth.A woman with major depressive disorder had tried to drown her coworker in a deep fryer when she was laid off.A little boy with autism attacked anyone, and anything, if it made a sound in B flat.Over time he had become an expert at deriving motive from action, and from there predicting future behaviors.When Sebastian Hady had used “fixing our broken infrastructure” as his primary platform during the mayoral race, Hugo had known it meant budget cuts were coming to Arkham.It had been too long since a break out had received enough press to draw public ire.Hugo cursed his foresight as he re-examined each frame of the security footage for the… he couldn’t remember how many times he’d looked them over.The 5 FPS recorded by the hospital’s cheap surveillance system failed to capture much of his new patient’s outburst the previous morning. 

He had had the security footage replaying on the monitor in his office every minute he was not with a patient, meaning he had exactly twenty five minutes and forty seconds to consider the previous days events before his meeting with what was left of Dr. Jonathan Crane.In one frame, her hands were secured behind her back, and one of the guards was opening the door to her cell.In the next, an empty manacle was suspended in the air behind her, and her free arm was an indistinguishable blur.In the next, it was elbow deep in the the guard’s chest.The video confirmed she had removed his heart in less than half a second.She had both corpses in the cell with her after two. 

He clicked play, and watched her feed for the next minute and a half before she was so easily subdued by his guards.Based off her nearly invisible speed in dispatching Marinski and her obvious ease in dragging Lewis, he was quite sure she could have done much more damage had she the inclination. _Whatever her other physiological properties may be, at least she’s susceptible to sedation._

He scrolled back on the the footage to where she was hauling the heftier of the guards, his lower leg dragging loosely along the linoleum and leaving a dark streak of bloodbehind it.Once his boot was clear of the doorway, she had slid the bars closed behind her.She had passed up the possibility of escape for a place to eat in relative security.There was a moment where she paused during her feeding,looking at the floor outside her cell near where the trey of meat had fallen. _What on Earth are you, and what are you planning?_

He leaned in so close that he could feel the screen’s static on the tip of his nose.A new thrill of excitement bloomed in his chest.He stared into the eyes of the woman on his monitor.While the resolution was low, he could make out the darker roundness of her irises bordered by white.When he had turned to her on the stairs, he had gotten his first good look at the Ghoul’s eyes.They had contained neither pupils nor irises, and there was some remarkable deformity of the sclera.Framed by lightly freckled lids and red lashes, her eyes were the chrome and luster of a pair of convex mirrors.All he saw when he looked at her was his own distorted reflection.And now, inexplicably, her eyes appeared completely human. _Now how did you do that?_

The sound of the alarm nearly toppled him from his chair.He hit the panic button under his desk to send the steel bolts framing his doorway to their housing in his door, effectively securing it against anything short of a battering ram. _Or Croc._ He quickly switched windows and clicked on the sub level two feed, selecting the camera opposite the reptilian’s modified cell.He was floating peacefully in brackish water, his nose, forehead, and back visible above its surface.He clicked over to sub level five to check on the Ghoul.She was pressed into the corner of her cell, hands clasped tightly over her ears, rocking back and forth.He clicked to the universal feed and scanned for movement, selecting the level one hallway to watch a group of guards converging outside the showers.He checked his watch. _Ah, Joker.I suppose you were due._ He rested his chin against his steepled fingers and watched the scene unfold.

The showers were one of the few rooms in the facility without video monitoring, but Hugo had quietly insisted that maintenance install microphones.He accessed them now through a folder labeled “Plumbing Reports - 2005”, but heard nothing save for the steady drip of a leaky shower head.In this way he was able to watch the guards open the door and turn the corner, and a moment later hear one of them, _Rollins?Worley?_ yell, “LIE FACE DOWN ON THE GROUND, NOW!” 

Grunts, chains clinking, laughter, labored breathing, and finally Hugo watched two of them drag an unconscious clown around the corner and down the hall.A third came sprinting out to grab the receiver beneath the alarm, punch in a code to stop its wailing, and then dial what appeared to Hugo as 9-1-1. _Well, he must have left him alive.How magnanimous._

Hugo smiled softly, and clicked back onto the feed for sub-level five.The Ghoul had stopped rocking, but kept her hands pressed tightly over her ears.Once again he leaned in. _I should schedule a physical examination.Getting in a room with her before understanding her capabilities seems…inadvisable.Oh, not again…_ Dr. Hugo Strange had barely registered the growing erection tenting his slacks when his phone began to chirp, alerting him of his next appointment. 

The lockdown bought him an extra half hour to compose himself before a knock on his door told him that his session with the Scarecrow was ready to begin.He wiped the fog from his glasses before disengaging the bolts on his door, and welcoming the disgraced psychologist into his office. 

At nearly 200 cm, Jonathan Crane towered over the guard beside him.He wore a brown knit sweater over his standard issues that failed to disguise his general emaciation.Though Dr. Strange had reinforced the benefits of the menu and exercise yard to the patient, he seemed reluctant to take advantage of either, preferring to spend his time in the library. 

At one point the man had been confined to the depths of sub level five with the Joker and Dr. Rose.He had insisted on wearing the burlap mask, _unsanitary, pathetic,_ for months until the two of them had achieved a therapeutic breakthrough. Indeed, both he and the botanist had shown excellent progress, and Dr. Crane was due for review before the state board and potential release in three months time. 

The guard backed out of the room, leaving the two doctors in each other’s company.With a nervous look around the room, Crane took the seat opposite Strange’s mahogany desk.

“Good morning, doctor.” His slightly rasping monotone seemed higher than usual, on edge.“Is everything alright?I was worried when the alarm went off…”

“Everything is fine, Jonathan,” replied Hugo Strange, “the situation has resolved itself.Our session can continue as scheduled.”

“I was worried that…” his wide, blue eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail of the office, “I was worried that I had imagined it; that the klaxon was in my head.I was concerned that I had relapsed, doctor.”

Hugo typed in a note on his computer.“No, Jonathan.It was just the Joker making his usual trouble.You’re in my office right now, just as it appears to you.The time is 9:30 AM, and the two of us are having our weekly meeting.” Strange took in the thin man’s relieved expression with an indulgent smile.“Now, last week we had been discussing your fear of inadequacy.Before our time ran out, you had begun to tell me about an incident with a former patient of yours.You called her Justine?”

Jonathan flinched.Hugo made another note of that.

“Yes, Justine.I… It’s hard to describe, doctor.She came to me to treat her compulsions.She had found herself taking longer and longer to get ready for work in the morning.Things like getting out of bed, brushing her teeth, and preparing coffee became nearly impossible tasks that dragged on and on.She was unable to get out of bed until the her alarm had gone through three snooze cycles.Not because she was tired, but because she HAD to.She brushed her teeth until her gums bled.She needed to empty and refill the water for her percolator three times, and then six times, and then nine.She began to call into work about car trouble and burst pipes to explain away her lateness. Eventually she lost her job as a nurse at Gotham General.”

“Typical obsessive behavior,” Hugo commented, checking the time on his screen, “Please, continue.”

“Did I mention she was beautiful?”

Dr. Strange met his eyes.

“I mean, beyond physically,” Crane continued.“Yes, she was gorgeous.Long, slender neck and chestnut hair.But it was more than that.The behaviors spoke to me, you see.Why activities in triplet? Why routines around waking up?Why the medical field?I was intrigued.”A flush began to creep up the former doctor’s neck onto his cheeks. 

“What was the connection?” Strange had temporarily forgotten his notes.

“Well, that’s not important,” he abashedly examined his fingers, long and thin against the desktop.“You must understand how humiliating it is for me to discuss my eccentricities with another… well, a successful psychiatrist.”

“It’s alright to talk about anything with me, Jonathan, as you know.I too find myself drawn to a case.”There was a tensing of the Scarecrow’s fingers, and sudden, irrational worry flooded Hugo, “From time to time.Yes, I’ll find myself becoming over invested in patients every now and again.” _115 beats per minute._

“Well, Justine was a puzzle.”Sweat beaded the thin man’s brow.“You understand that I fully regret my actions, yes?They were sick.”

“I know, Jonathan.It’s alright. Please, go on.”

“Well, I wasn’t helping her.Sure, with medication and semiweekly meetings, she was able to return to a schedule and cease her counting.I encouraged her to speak openly with her former employer, and she even got her job back at the ER.But I could tell that she was still… ill.She was sickened by fear, you see.I wanted to know what it was.I wanted to know what made her so afraid that she couldn’t leave her bed and scraped the gums off her teeth.I couldn’t do it as a doctor.I couldn’t help her.Not really.Not meaningfully.”

 _And here we go again._ Hugo checked the time, and made a note. 

“I can see I’m getting off track again.Sorry, doctor.”Jonathan Crane offered an embarrassed smile. “But I realized that I couldn’t reach her as myself, and so I became someone else.Why is that, doctor?Why could’t he just be satisfied that she was better?Why did he need to change her with the gas?Why did he need to… violate her… while she screamed?Why did he need to take her mind away from her, and then squeeze into her beautiful, slender neck?” 

 _She was a failed experiment._ “Your inability to discover the root of her illness, the drive that led you to the field of psychology, led you to assume the other identity of your fractured ego.When confronted with failure, you fled, and the other one took over.” 

A silence stretched between the two men.Hugo was far from his office, imagining the details of the scene described by his former colleague.He had her braced over his desk.His fingers were interlocked at the back of her neck, thumbs digging in around her windpipe.His weight kept her pinned to the desk while his hard cock rammed into her tight, sopping cunt over, and over, and over again.Her mouth was open in a silent scream.Her small, pale breasts shook with each thrust.Her red curls were slick with sweat, and her chrome eyes reflected back Hugo’s face in perfect miniature.

“What do you do with a puzzle, doctor?” asked his patient, plaintively.Hugo shook from his reverie, focusing on the drawn features of the man before him. 

 _I don’t need gas to experiment._ Hugo’s phone chirped.“I’m afraid we’re out of time, Jonathan.” A guard opened the door to the outside just as the two men stood.“You’re making excellent progress, I’m happy to say.I’m looking forward to our session next week.We should continue to examine these feeling that cause a lapse in control.”

The lanky former doctor smiled widely.“Yes, Dr. Strange.I’m looking forward to it.” 


	5. Up Close and Personal

Anna paced a circle around cell. The lack of windows or clock made it impossible for her to keep track of time, and so she paced to mark its passage in revolutions around her cell. She guessed that she ordinarily walked at three miles an hour. She guessed the circumference of her circular path to be twenty-two feet. Two hundred forty circles in a mile. Seven hundred twenty circles in an hour. In this way she judged that two and a half hours had gone by before they dragged the pale man back to his cell.

It had, for the most part, been a terrible morning.She had enjoyed seeing the man move.She had watched avidly as the wiry, toned muscles moved beneath his glistening skin while he used his own body weight to hone them.His movements showed the precision of years of practice.Dirty blonde roots were visible at his scalp, leading to greasy tendrils of green hair that hung lank at his temples, obscuring his face.Every now and agin, he would laugh as he worked through a muscle group.He was gorgeous.And, better yet, he had made her laugh.When she heard them coming she had crouched in the back of her cell and thrown her pallet over herself, watching from beneath its rough protection as two men, rife with the scent and sound of fear, had come and led him away. She could tell that her friend was furious. Watching and listening to him had been the only bright moment of her day, sandwiched between the near blinding shock of the lights coming on and the deafening wail of the siren.

When they dragged his limp form past the transparent front of her cell, she listened carefully for his heartbeat.It was the sluggish thud of an unnatural, drugged sleep. _What did you do to him?What are you going to do to me?_ When she heard the metal clank of the gates closing behind them, she had crawled from beneath her hide to look over the man who had made her laugh.She could see the white soles of his feet near the corner of his cell.She wasn’t sure for how long she watched them, but they never moved. 

More guards were approaching.Retreating again beneath her pallet, she saw a heavyset woman and a large man approaching her cell cautiously.The woman carried a what smelled like a sizable slab of human flesh wrapped in white butcher paper.Anna held her breath as the the man stepped forward with stun gun drawn and undid the latch on a small, sliding door about 1’x4” on the front of her cell.When Anna remained motionless, the woman threw in the package, and the man quickly re-secured the hatch.She waited until their footsteps had faded entirely before venturing out to investigate. 

They had given her what tasted like the trapezius, deltoid, and triceps of a man in his late seventies.It was stringy, had a faint, disconcerting aftertaste, and there was no discernible fat content.She finished it quickly, balling up the paper and tossing it in the corner before rinsing her face and hands at the sink. _Better than nothing._ A small tooth brush and tube of toothpaste that tasted like chemicals and sand sat on the edge of her sink.Anna resumed her pacing. 

She missed her books.In the basement room she had called her home for the last seven years, she had, with the help of her father, amassed a small library.When they had lived in the forest he had brought her toys as well, though she always preferred the ones they made together to any he had scavenged.When he had gotten sick and moved them to Gotham, he had begun to come home with a new book every month along with fresh meat.He had shown her how to build a shelf for them out of wooden pallets, and she had always thought the room seemed larger with them in it, even though that made no practical sense.Now they were gone, along with the forest and the basement and her father _Don’t think about it._ To stave off boredom, she reviewed all the facts she could recall about reptiles of the American Southwest, and when she ran out of those, tried to remember all the plot points of _Hyperion_ by Dan Simmons. 

She was startled out of her recollections on the geopolitical history of Iceland by the sounds of foot steps.She flung her mat over herself, and waited. 

The doctor who had led her to her first cell came around the corner.He carried with him a notepad and a folding chair, the latter of which he set in front of her enclosure before taking a seat.He leaned towards her, causing her to cringe even further back against the far wall.She could make out an elevated heart rate, but was only able to smell the mildew infested straw around her. 

“Good morning, miss.I would like to apologize for the alarm earlier.It sounds infrequently, though not as rarely as I’d prefer.” 

He paused, giving her time to respond.When she didn’t, he continued, “You have of course been brought to sub level five, which I mentioned are our most restrictive quarters.This is a consequence of your violent actions yesterday, which resulted in the deaths of two employees.If you would like to earn a larger living space and outside privileges, we will need to discuss that event, along with strategies that you may use to prevent any future incidents.”

_It was a misunderstanding.Just go away.Leave me alone._

The only sound was the deep breathing and nearly inaudible chuckling coming from her neighbor.She could see the doctor clearly, though was confident that her pallet and its shadow kept her completely obscured. 

“Perhaps you could start by telling me your name.You are currently listed as Jane Doe on our intake program.” 

_That’s not my name.Leave me alone, creep._

“Very well, miss Doe.As it is, given evidence from the incident yesterday and what we know about the particulars of your diet, you have… _different_ physiological traits to most of the people I’ve encountered.Since you were in police custody, you have yet to undergo any medical examination, and until you have at least answered my questions, I am uncomfortable permitting any of the nurses here to evaluate you.Also, until you have undergone a complete physical, I am unwilling to consider lifting your current restrictions.”He paused again.“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?

Anna was aware of medical examinations.That was where her father had gone after he had fallen.When he came back, he was in the chair, telling her they needed to leave home and move to the city.She had absolutely no interest in undergoing medical examination.She pulled down the front of her pallet, blocking the man from her view.

“Miss Doe, please understand that for the health and safety of everyone in this facility, you will be given a physical.Your cooperation is highly encouraged, but not necessary to its implementation.”She heard a marked increase in his heart rate.

_Try me, asshole._

“Very well, Miss Doe.I deeply regret that you have taken this attitude, and that we will need to respond.”There was no trace of regret in his voice.“Please, just try and relax.” 

She tensed. _What the fuck are you up to?_ She heard a scrape and creak as he collected his chair, and the diminishing click-clack of his dress shoes.It was fewer than five minutes before a number of heavy footsteps grew closer, causing her to lift the edge of her bed to see who and what had come to ruin her day.There were four men, each of their faces covered in a gas mask.One of them wore a metal canister strapped to his back, out of which extended a flexible plastic hose, the end of which he held in his hands.One of them opened the hatch at the front of her cell while the one with the tank brought the hose to the opening and twisted a valve at its tip.Over the frantic hammering of their hearts, she heard a hiss.

_What fuckery is this?_

It took about three minutes for Anna to notice the effects of the gas.Their heart beats became distorted, as though she were hearing them under water.The arm holding down the edge of her pallet began to go numb, the fingers relaxing.She attempted to stand, to scramble backwards, but instead fell forward, her face and chest smashing into the linoleum.She heard the door to her cell open, and then she was blinded as her mattress was pulled off of her.With an arm that felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds, she lashed out at the blue clad leg by her face.She heard a scream and a heavy thud as someone fell, and then every muscle in her body was on fire with electricity.Through all of this, she never felt the needle slip into her neck, just below her left ear. 

 

When Anna awoke she was paralyzed _just like Dad_.However, he at least had kept the use of his arms.He was able to turn his head, and lean forward in his chair, and lift himself onto the toilet when he needed it.Anna could move nothing.She felt cold metal at her wrists and ankles, and rough canvas across her shins, thighs, belly, chest, arms, and forehead.They seemed to be completely unnecessary, as she was mentally unable to focus on any one muscle group well enough to move it. 

The feeling of air across her breasts made her aware that she was naked.She heard a the soft whirring of some electrical device, and a discordant clamoring that resolved itself into a human voice.Someone was talking.

“has been administered aerosol flunitrazepam at three thousand ppm and two hundred milligrams haloperidol solution.During transport she also received 50,000 volts transdermally from officer Kelly’s taser.”His voice seemed to get louder and softer, distorting and warping.Anna tried and failed to shake her head.A high pitched whine began to fill the room, and she was scared to realize it was coming from her. She had never felt so thirsty in her life. 

The doctor had stopped talking.His face loomed over her, one grey eye magnified by an eyepiece strapped around his head so the veins in his whites looked like red bolts of lightning. _GET AWAY._  

“The patient has functional vocal chords, it would seem.”He leaned in closer, breathing a hot gust of stale breath into her face and slack mouth.“Can you hear me?Blink if you can.” 

With an intense focus, Anna managed to bring her eyelids together, blocking out the light and the horrible man above her.She was, however, unable to block out his warped voice, thundering heartbeat, or the cloying scent of his arousal. 

“Fascinating.The patient seems to be conscious.”She heard a rustling, and felt a ring of plastic settle over her nose and mouth.The light shining through her eyelids grew dimmer, the water in her ears deeper, the weight pressing down on her limbs heavier. 

 

“and lower canines are of exaggerated length and sharpness.” There were fingers in her mouth.She tasted bitter, powdered latex.She summoned all of her will in an attempt to bite, but failed to so much as move her tongue.She felt the fingers grab her tongue.“The tongue appears of normal dimension and texture.This combined with her earlier vocalizations rule out physical barriers to communication, leading me to conclude her muteness is due either to cognitive impairment, or simple stubbornness.” The fingers left her mouth and drifted up to her forehead.They pressed in above her right eye, pulling the skin upward until she felt her lid part and the light stabbed in.

“Pupil dilation normal, though…”The light disappeared, occluded by his face.He was inches from her.She longed to lead forward and take his nose.“There is a thickening and clouding of the sclera.Her eyes are… brown…” He lifted her other lid and repeated the process. 

The fingers were at her right hand now, her useless, paralyzed right hand.They lifted and stroked each digit, bending and straightening them.“The subject has apertures near the cuticle of each finger.They are approximately one centimeter in length, and perhaps a millimeter in width.They’re… I wonder.”She felt him bend her index finger, pressing along the top and bottom until, “Yes, she appears to have a semblance of claws.While retracted they rest along the middle phalanx, and in the case of her thumb, along the proximal.They have minor serrations along their underside, and appear between two and two and a half centimeters in length.”

The hands were at her feet now, prodding and twisting.“Claws on her feet, much liker her hands.”They moved along her arches, around her heal.“Heavy callusing suggests a good deal of time spent without footwear.Muscles of the legs, much like the arms, appear well developed.There is no discernible fat cover aside from her breasts and buttocks, and no striae to indicate sudden weight loss, nor the expansion concurrent with pregnancy.Along with her elevated temperature, this suggests a heightened metabolism.” 

There was shuffling again, and she heard him step to somewhere along her right side.His breathing had become ragged, his heartbeat rising beyond its already rapid tempo. _Have a heart attack.Have a heart attack and die._

She felt his hand at her thigh.The whole segment of table it was connected to seemed to lift and bend, moving outward from the rest of her body. 

“I will… I will now begin the pelvic examination.” 

 _Oh fuck, get away from me.Please, please don’t touch me._ Every ounce of will and effort went into moving her right hand.She imagined it pulling free from the table, her fingers penetrating the soft flesh near the man’s chin, and tearing away his lower jaw.She thought she felt her fingers twitch, but likely imagined it. 

She was now entirely exposed, both of her legs raised and separated.She felt a gust of his breath across her sex, and screamed internally.“The outer and inner labia appear normal, devoid of any variations.The clitoris is large, but well within norms.The vagina appears…” she felt another gust of breath hit her center, the smells coming off of him getting stronger, fouler, “of narrow dimension.The hymen is present, indicating a lack of sexual activity or other vaginal stress.There is a fine layer of hair over the mons, but diminishing over the outer labia and absent around… around the anus.” _GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME._

For a moment he seemed to listen.She heard him take a step back, his breathing fast and heavy. _Maybe he IS having a heart attack._ The was a click.The whirring noise she had noted upon first regaining consciousness had stopped.It dawned on her that it was the sound of the doctor turning off a recording device.There was a snapping sound, followed after a moment by another. _He just took his gloves off.SOMEBODY HELP!HELP ME!!DAD!_

She felt his hands at her thighs, fingers pressing into her muscle as though trying to force them further apart.She felt his lips, then.They closed around her mound, his hot tongue licking a stripe up her center and pressing down hard onto her clit.Her whole body shuddered at the contact, and her horrified internal scream temporarily blocked out all sensation.He dragged his tongue over her slowly, making hungry grunts _GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME_ , flicking at her swelling clit with his upper lip, pressing the flat of his tongue against her slit and rolling it. She heard the sound of a zipper, and the meaty slap of skin on skin as the man stroked himself.His face pushed into her rhythmically, his hands shoving her against her restraints, rocking her against the table. 

Somehow, without her willing it, here eyelids parted.She looked down across her body and could make out the top of his greying head between her thighs while he rocked his face against her.She felt a heat and pressure begin to build in her lower belly _MAKE IT STOP, OH PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!_

After an unknowable amount of time, it did.He stood up with a gasp, and hurriedly backed away to a cabinet behind him.He opened its door, his head shifting almost comically as he looked for something.He pulled out a tube of clear gel and opened it with his teeth, pouring a liberal amount into his open hand.Spitting the empty tube aside, he rubbed his hands together, and brought them to his dark red erection, sticking obscenely from the front of his khakis.His hissed in pleasure.He turn back to her, looked her right in the eye, and froze.

 _I’M AWAKE YOU FUCKING PERVERT, STOP!STOP, PLEASE!_ The whining sound was back.Fury and shame flooded through Anna as she looked at the doctor. His hand was still stroking along his cock, which looked so hard it seemed painful, and he stared openly into her eyes.A smile crept over his face, and he tilted his head backward, holding eye contact.“Your eyes, Miss Doe.They’re mirrors again.”

His hand was moving slowly up and down his shaft, tightening at the head.He moved toward her.The whining got louder with Anna’s panic.He stood by her face, and Anna struggled to tilt her head to keep him in focus.A clear plastic mask was lowered over her slack mouth, pumping anesthetic into her hyperventilating lungs.He walked around her, down to where her spread legs left her open.He dropped his mouth once more to her mound, and she felt his lube-slicked fingers begin circling her virgin entrance. 

_please no, please stop it now_

She felt them withdraw from her, and breathed relief as her lids once more locked shut.Just before she lost consciousness, she felt him give an especially hard suck on her clit and slide two of his fingers into her asshole, stretching her painfully and pressing deep.

 

Anna had fallen in the creek again.He father had tried teaching her to swim over at Sullivan Lake last Summer _Or was it two Summers ago?Three?_ but it hadn’t stuck.Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself float.Now she held fast to a tree limb as she was tossed between the rocks where the banks grew close and the full volume of the Pend Orelle was forced into the narrow confines.She closed her eyes as a wave splashed over her and the limb hit a rock, nearly shaking her loose.She felt an intense pain and saw a tinge of red in the frothing water around her.She clung on, knowing that to let go was to drown. 

The branch she clung to had grown slick, and her nails struggled to find purchase in the rotting wood.It snagged on a tree root embedded in the bank, giving her the chance to pull herself towards the water’s edge and the safety of land.With her last, ragged bit of energy, she clawed her way along the branch toward shore.When she was inches away, she saw the root pull free from the soil.Her life raft now set adrift, she knew she was going to die.Pale fingers closed around her wrist. 

She was lying on her back, cushioned by moss.The pale man, the green haired one who made her laugh, grinned down at her. _How do I know him?When did we meet again?_ There were twisted scars on his cheeks leading out from where his lips met, making his smile seem even wider.She couldn’t smell him _You can’t smell in dreams, Anna_ the world around her began to shake and blur at the edges _forget it, it’s real, it’s solid_ His smile was honest.He laughed into her face, and she knew she was naked. 

Heat pooled in her stomach.The pain she was feeling from the rocks became a pleasant ache, and she realized that he was sliding into her, entering her.She loved it.She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him closer, digging her teeth into the meat of his shoulder and tearing loose a mouthful of deltoid.His laugh became a moan, and he bit roughly into the side of her neck, tearing away at her trapezius.She swallowed and twined her fingers into his hair, bringing their faces together so she could run her tongue along those lips, dipping into his panting mouth when they parted.They rocked together, his chest flattening hers, his arms holding them flush and pulling her up and down along his length.With each thrust her clit rubbed at the sweaty patch of skin in the middle of his adonis belt, pushing her closer and closer to the some precipice of sensation she didn’t know existed.

She came with a scream, her ears filling with the overwhelming hum of her own blood flowing through her veins, her vision whiting out at the edges.She clenched around him, riding the waves of pleasure as they crashed over her.Oddly, even though he was buried in wet, clutching pussy _Is he?Where is that coming from?_ she felt the hot splash of his cum against her thigh.He leaned down to press his torn lips against her neck, and she felt the pinch of a needle.


	6. Bargains and Machinations

The Joker fell twice trying to get to the sink.He held his face under the faucet for several minutes, letting the tepid water ease the intense thirst and dry mouth the drugs had left him. _It’s not worth the hangover._ He sputtered, choked out a weak laugh, and drank some more.

They had left him a trey of what they called food.The chicken was unseasoned, boiled, and of course separated from the bone.They had served him wings once upon a time, and he could still hear the late Dr. Malen screaming when he closed his eyes, and tried.He had spent four hours shaping the chicken bone into a lock pick against the rough stone wall of sub-level three. _Fool you once, shame on me; fool you twice, shame on you!_

The peas were sandy and bland, the bread smelled and tasted like plastic.All of it was the same temperature as his cell.He ate ravenously, his stomach still grumbling as he swallowed the end of his chicken. _Quality or quantity: pick one._ He chuckled, and used his sluggish fingers to tear the cardboard trey to confetti and weakly toss it above his head. 

The not-so-subtle halogen lights told him it was between 6:00 AM and 9:00 PM, but he had no way of narrowing it beyond that.Based on the fact that he could still smell soap on his skin and didn’t wake up covered in piss, he assumed it was the same day as his shower. _It’ll be another day before I can have a little chat with the neighbor, then.Ah well._ He stood on shaking legs and staggered to the glass.

On those rare occasions when the Joker dabbled in self reflection, he could admit that sometimes he was… less than in total control of his emotions. He sometimes imagined his temper as a school of eels.They were always hungry, but could content themselves with biting at each other below the waves for a time, until some event landed against them like a chunk of meat to whip them into a frenzy, churning the water into a boil.When he looked down the hall and saw her empty cell, it was as though a whole side of beef, wet with blood, had suddenly been dropped on erstwhile calm waters. 

 _She’s gone.Where the fuck is she?She STOLE FROM ME SHE STOLE AND SHE’S GONE SHE DOESN’T GET TO LEAVE KILL HER KILL THEM BREAK THEM DOWN THEY’RE NOTHING THEY CAN’T STEAL FROM_ The Joker lost track of time, again.He had few faults, but sometimes he got carried away.Water was splashing against the back of his head from the broken end of a pipe sticking out from the stone wall.The other end of the pipe was in his hand, connected to the sink.He was also fairly certain that he had broken two fingers on his left hand, and one on his right. _Dammit_.

He stood there for a moment, watching the water soak into his straw mat.His homemade confetti floated at the surface like fish food.He saw an image of himself, dead and grinning and floating belly up in his flooded cell like a gold fish.He began to chuckle.His chuckle became a laugh, which grew deeper and louder until it was filling his cell and echoing down the hall.

“Oh great, now what the fuck is this?”

The Joker looked up.Peters, looking exhausted, was standing outside of his cell with his club drawn.Beyond him the Joker could see Avery and Kelly dragging the red-headed absentee back to her cell.He laughed harder, relief sinking into him like a balm.He dropped the sink.

“This is why you can’t have nice things, asshole.”Peters didn’t usually work on Thursdays, so the clown assumed he must have been called in to cover for Skelton.He fell to his knees, laughing so hard it was starting to hurt. “Hey Tony, Emmett, when you get that one settled come over here.”

Through streaming eyes, the Joker saw the three of them watching him.

“That’s gonna be expensive.” Said Avery.

“Well, it’s getting more expensive the longer we just stand here.It’s gonna need to be repaired ASAP.Someone’s gotta tell Superintendent Mason.” Said Peters.

“What about the Joker?”Asked Kelly. 

“Zap him and put him in another cell.”That was Avery _Fucking idiot.You think it’s a mess now?_ He had been calming down, but now the Joker’s laughter redoubled. 

“What, in that water?You’ll need to call a plumber _and_ the coroner.”Ah. Sensible, reliable Kelly. 

“I’ll dope him.”Peters was reaching into his pocket.

“No, he just woke up.You’re gonna OD the piece of shit.”Kelly stepped forward. He had his face set in “business” mode, and he crouched down to be eye level with where the Joker knelt in the rising water.He laid his club across his knee.“Alright.What we’re going to do is throw in a pair of cuffs.You’re going to put them on, and then we’re going to open the door.You’re going to walk, slowly, down to the cell at the end of the hall across from the other nutcase who’s way more trouble than she’s worth.If you do that, without pulling any of your usual horseshit, I’ll personally bring you some dry clothes and another trey of food.If you try anything, we’ll club the shit out of you, and _then_ drag your broken ass into that cell.” Avery and Peters looked distinctly nervous.The Joker’s laughter had died down, wanting to make sure they both heard Kelly’s spiel.He choked back a few giggles as Peters handed over his cuffs to Kelly, who tossed them through the hatch.

The Joker caught them. “I’d like the fois gras and veal this time,”he quipped as he fastened them around his wrists. 

“Of course you would.” Said Avery, keeping his club at the ready as Peters opened the clown’s door. 

He walked down the hall, bare feet slapping wetly at the linoleum, until he reached a dryer version of his former suite and stepped inside.Avery unshackled him through the hatch, and true to his word, faithful Kelly brought him a trey of food and a dry onesie complete with slippers.While he hadn’t meant to destroy his sink, it had certainly panned out well for him. _There are no mistakes, just happy little accidents._

The seconds ticked by into minutes into nearly an hour as his hair dried into green tendrils.Guards and maintenance men filed back and forth past him, but he paid them no mind.Chuckling to himself, he laid his mat against the stone wall and sat against it watching the unconscious woman across from him toss fitfully. 

 _God, they breed ‘em younger and younger these days_.He guessed she was around twenty.Her red hair was slick with sweat and plastered against the flushed skin of her face and forehead. _Sexy little minx, though.Shame._

He watched her fight her way closer and closer to consciousness, tapping his fingers idly against his wrist, until she suddenly went still.The muscles of her face relaxed entirely and she looked as though she had fallen into a peaceful, resting slumber. _Ah, she’s awake._

“Good evening, Clarice.” The clown hissed at her. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud bang answered him, followed by smaller percussions and a blur of orange in the cell across from him. _Hot damn, she’s FAST!_ The Joker laughed as she slammed herself against the transparent walls at a speed that made it nearly impossible to follow.He thought of a bee trapped in a jar. 

As he laughed the blur became a woman, short, thin, and panting raggedly.She clutched the edge of the sink, hunching over it as though preparing to rip it from the wall.

“DON’T DO THAT, IT’S A MESS!”The Joker yelled with a laugh. 

She didn’t tear it from its moorings, but she did release a stream of deep red vomit into its shallow basin.

“The toilet, INTO THE TOILET!” he called across to her, helpfully.She fell to her right, directing her stomach’s contents into the seatless toilet. 

He giggled madly as she continued to heave, though cut it off when the smell hit him.It smelled like an abattoir in August. 

“Good god, woman!”He laughed, pulling the front of his onesie over his face.“Crack a window!” 

With a final lurching heave, she collapsed into a sitting position in front of her toilet.Shetook several deep racking breaths, steadying herself against the stained steel.Highly amused, the Joker crossed over to the front of his cell, a mere two steps, and leaned his shoulder against the barrier to watch her progress.The sooner she got herself put together, the sooner they could talk.He was looking forward to a talk before their chat. _She’s a speedy little mouse.Definitely best to catch her by surprise.Ooooooo, she has good hearing, though, so I’ll need to soften my new slippers._ He lifted his hand and rapped white knuckles against the glass.Her whole body jerked at the sound, and she swung her face up to stare at the pale man across from her. 

 _Neat_! “Jeepers creepers, those are some peepers you got there, kid.”He could see little versions of himself staring back from beneath her ruddy brows. _Maybe I’ll just dig my thumbs right in there, and dash your shiny brains out._ “Now, I recommend you take small sips of water.If you try to gulp, you’ll end up puking again.”She continued to look at him, red _Bloody? Ha, gross!_ vomit dripping thickly from her chin.“And please, give us a courtesy flush,”he added with a snicker. 

She stared at him another moment, and then went into sluggish motion.She lurched to her feet, pressed the flush, and attached her mouth to the faucet beside her.The Joker watched her take her fill and wipe the foulness from her chin, splashing some water across her cheeks and forehead.She pressed her back against the left wall of her cell and slid downward until she was seated on her mat.After a minute, she turned her head to look at the clown across from her.

“Well, now that you’re feeling a little better, we need to talk.”He smiled pleasantly at her.

The woman’s brow knit together.She tilted her head, looking up at him like a confused dog. _¿hablas inglés, bitch?_

“Why are you angry?” her voice was raspy, almost choking.She coughed, and spat a wad of red into the sink across from her. 

 _Because you’re a thieving killjoy.An observant thieving killjoy.Now, how do I play this?Fuck it.She’s not going anywhere._ “Did you, or did you not, kill a guard named Jesse Marinski?”The Joker was not laughing.He could feel the muscles in his hands tensing. _The eels are restless._

For a moment she didn’t answer.The flush had receded from her milky skin, her freckles now the only color on her small pallid face.She answered with a question: “Was he the fast one or the big one?”Her voice sounded a little clearer this time, and it occurred to the Joker that she probably didn’t speak much. 

“The fast one,” he chuckled. _Not fast enough though, were you Jesse boy?_ “I’m afraid I’m a little miffed that he’s dead.”His blood dripped onto the cold linoleum as his nails dug into the meat of his palms. 

She didn’t say anything for a while, just inhaled deeply and ran her tongue across her lips.She began twisting the fabric of her onesie between her fingers, looking for all the world like a kid trying to come up with an excuse for being out of bed, or a murderer arguing for a manslaughter charge. _There will be no reduced sentence, kiddo._

“I’m sorry.I was hungry.He…” he watched the walls of her cell flit across her mirrored eyes as she looked around, as though searching for something else to say.“He was… honest?”

Cold shock hit the Joker’s stomach like Avery’s club.The laughter began as a trickle, and then flooded from him and off the walls of his cell. _Yes, he WAS honest, until I SHOWED HIM WHO HE WAS_.“That’s, ahaa, ach-“ he struggled to get the words out.“That’s why I chose him!” He was leaning over now, gripping his knee.He rose up, leaning over backward, wiping the tears from his leaking eye. 

The laughter built, crescendoed, ebbed, and died.“He was mine, you see.”He focused in on her.He thought about Marinski’s widow; grief stricken, but proud. _WRONG._ “He was NOT yours to kill.”

She was smiling sheepishly. _She is cute, though.God, I just want to peel the face right off her skull._ “Sorry.It hurt a lot.It wasn’t fun.I was just hungry.” 

The Joker mulled the situation.

He felt on edge.There was something not right about the whole conversation. _Who is in charge, here?_ “Well, I’ll take that under consideration, kiddo.” She smiled widely at him _Wow, look at those chompers too!_ and leaned her head back against the wall behind her.

“My name is Anna.” She said it quietly.The lights cut out, throwing them both into darkness.For a few seconds though, he could still see her eyes, glowing in the darkness as though they had been storing the light. _Heh.Neat._

“That’s nice.”He answered, blandly.He heard her chuckle softly in the darkness. _What am I going to do tomorrow?_ “Well, she’s very fast.Killing her is going to be quite difficult.” _Oh shit, did I just say that out loud? “_ Did I say that out loud?”

There was silence for a moment, and then her amused voice came back, “Yes.”

 _Oh well._ _She wasn’t TRYING to steal from me.She’s never interfered before, either.And anyway, does crime deserve punishment?Deserve.A joke of a word. Maybe I should become a masked vigilante!_ “Haaaaa, aheh, hmmm, ha.” _I could still kill her.It will take time and planning.And NOT announcing it before I do, “_ Tchhh.” _Anyway, what’s my score this stay in the Hotel Arkham?Four guards (hopefully not five), and whatever I’ve done with Scarecrow.There’s a growth market, right there._ The Joker spent a good long while considering the next day, his sporadic laughter filling the corridors around him.

“Are you still awake, Anna?”

There was no pause this time: “Yes.”

“I’m going to tell you the story of how I got my scars.”


	7. Choices

Hugo Strange set his third tumbler of Scotch down on the counter beside his revolver and considered his options. 

He could pretend it had never happened, that he had never violated a restrained, sedated patient on hospital grounds.That of course ran the risk of him being caught.She could report him.Of course, that would take as a given that she could remember the afternoon’s events and that she was capable of communication.He could easily deny it, and almost assuredly get away with it without so much as a smudge on his reputation.That, however, left him in the position to once again lose control and repeat his shamefully indulgent actions in some other setting. _No, it’s embarrassing enough that it happened once._ He had stopped himself from taking her virginity or moving beyond digital penetration just barely.He had spilled himself on her thigh, thrusting his fingers into her sweet little pucker _Into her anus, Hugo, get a grip of yourself._

He could put in his papers at Arkham, and start a private practice. _No, I will not be satisfied witha civilian clientele._ He had begun his career with a private practice.He had operated out of a small office space in an industrial park on the outskirts of the Gotham suburbs, catering to depressed housewives and veterans with PTSD.He had listened to their fears and anxieties like so much elevator music.He would not go back to that.

He could leave and join the faculty at a new facility. _Never.I am a head psychiatrist, and I will not go back to rank and file support staff._ He poured himself another three fingers of Glendalough.When he had first started at Arkham fifteen years earlier. he had been blessed with a greater abundance of both hair and patience.He and two other clinicians had worked under Dr. Richard Malen.Over the years, his peers had come and gone, unable to cope with the stresses of treating the criminally insane.Six years earlier, the Joker had been admitted for the first time, and Dr. Malen had become fascinated by the psychopath.He had insisted that he was successfully rehabilitating him until one day,as he used the commode, that painted freak had escaped from his cell and killed him with a chicken bone.When no one with the administrative experience for the position had stepped forward, Hugo had been promoted.He would not suffer a demotion. 

He could kill himself: eliminate any chance of humiliation. _Possible, but drastic._

He could kill her, and stage it as self defense. _Very risky, but if done correctly, would certainly yield the best outcome._ Unlike many of his contemporaries, he had gravitated to the field of psychiatry to further his own understanding of the intricacies of human behavior as related to neuroses.He had very little interest in actually helping people. Rather, he wished to study the progression of their illness in a controlled environment.Many of his former patients might complain that Hugo had ruined their lives under the guise of therapy _If I had left them in any condition to do so_.Still, he had never actually killed anyone. _Well, I never molested a patient before, either._

“What do you do with a puzzle, doctor?”

Hugo’s tumbler slipped from his fingers and shattered at his feet.He spun toward the voice of Jonathan Crane, grabbing his revolver from the counter to point into the dark corner where he had set his breakfast table. 

The chairs sat empty. He padded through his hallway, flipping on lights as he went and keeping his gun leveled before him as he moved.There was likewise no one in his bathroom, and he ignored the faint mewling as he flipped on the lights in his deserted laboratory. He opened the door to his bedroom, swiveling where he stood to keep the barrel and his line of sight unified as they swept over the room.No one. 

He stretched his finger out of the guard along the barrel, bringing his hands up to cradle his face. _Am I losing my mind?Have I gone as mad as the Riddler?Get a grip.Get a fucking grip._ He padded over to his desk and sank into the chair, pressing his hot face against its cool, varnished surface. _I really need to go clean up that glass._

Raising his head, his eyes caught on the newspaper clippings still tacked to the wall.He set his revolver next to his desk lamp, switching it on with shaking fingers.He forced himself not to flinch as the light shone off the highly polished desk surface into his tired, watery eyes.He took several deep breaths, pulling the clippings from the clean, egg shell drywall, and laid them down in careful order before him.Once again, he read her story.

Gotham Globe, April 29th 2018

**REMAINS DISCOVERED IN BURNLEY ALLEYWAY**

**Officers responded to a 911 call from a cyclist yesterday afternoon about a bag of human remains deposited in a garbage bin behind a local pawn shop.Edward Clapper of Robbinsville told reporters he collided with the bin during his evening commute, causing it to tip and spill its grisly contents.**

**“A rat ran out in front of me, and I freaked out and swerved into the trash cans.The smell was God awful.Who expects to see some [expletive] like that on their way home?”**

**According to officers on the scene, two human heads were among its content, along with a number of bones.Local storeowners have been interviewed, and so far the police haven’t named any CONTINUED ON A14**

 

Gotham Globe, July 7th 2018

**GRIM DISCOVERY IN ABANDONED BURNLEY FLAT**

**A real estate developer and contractor made a gruesome find while inspecting an abandoned flat on 17th St in Burnley.Neither were available for comment, but sources within the Gotham police department claim that “several” skulls were found, each showing signs of blunt force trauma.They went on that the property had been unoccupied and sealed for twelve years, and that it appeared as though they had been interred for “a good span.”**

**There is no further information regarding the number or identity of the victims, nor that of the perpetrator.There has further been no response from the chief of police as to whether these remains are in anyway linked to those found in an alleyway in April.**

 

Gotham Herald, August 1st, 2018

**HUMAN REMAINS LINKED TO MERCY HOSPITAL**

**Dental records have been used to identify several sets of remains discovered in April and July.One of the deceased, Samantha Sudbury, was a vagrant and prostitute in the Bowery.She was well known to police and health workers until she passed away from a heroin overdose in September of 2016.**

**Another skull belonged to Desmond Washington of the East End, who was killed in a traffic collision in March of last year.**

**So how did these two sets of remains find their way to Burnley?**

**In a press conference Wednesday, Chief Bock stated that both individuals had passed through the Gotham Mercy General Hospital morgue, and from there, presumably,to the public ossuary beneath the Gotham Cathedral.**

**“Until all the remains are identified, it’s impossible to rule out homicide.However, some of the remains found belonged to previously deceased citizens,” Said Bock.“We will be including the internal affairs committee from Mercy General in our investigation.We are all hoping for a disgruntled mortician.The last thing Gotham needs is another murderer.”**

 

Gotham Gazette, September 20th, 2018 

**GHOUL IS A GIMP!**

**After a slew of skulls were discovered in the city’s streets, Gotham PD pointed the finger at Mercy General Hospital as a likely home for the ghoulish perp.**

**In a public statement released today, they claim security footage revealed one 44 year old Angus Dervish as the body burglar.**

**He’s been employed as a transporter at the hospital for three years, has been missing since the press conference last Wednesday, and the Gazette can be the first to reveal: he’s a wheelchair bound paraplegic!**

**Ellen Baker, head of HR at the disgraced hospital, states that he was, “an excellent worker, despite his handicap.He was always on time.He was able to transport machinery, patients, and cadavers without any issue.In the three years he’s worked here, he’s never taken a sick day or received a single complaint.” Ms. Baker apparently thinks smuggling body parts in a duffle bag is nothing to “complain” about!**

**Three doctors at Mercy General settled in malpractice lawsuits this CONTINUED ON A9**

 

Gotham Herald, November 30th, 2018

**MISSING SCHOOL BOY IN BURNLEY SPARKS SEARCH, PLEAS FROM FAMILY**

**Eleven year old Petros Dvorak, the only son of Polish immigrants Jakub and Lena Dvorak, earned a spot at the elite Gotham Academy last August.He was featured in the Herald’s Rising Star segment about inner city youth last December when he was awarded first place in the Gotham Elementary Science Fair for his model desalinator. He won much deserved acclaim and the notice of the board at the elite Academy.This promising young man has been missing since Monday.**

**His mother was too distraught to make a statement, but his father Jakub had this to say, “If anyone has seen Petros, please help him home.He is a good boy.He loves God, and his sister.He is very good, he loves to help peoplePlease, help him come home.”**

**A search organized by community leaders at St. Agatha’s was performed Wednesday evening, but to date no trace of the boy has been found.He was last seen on security footage at the intersection of Marlboro and 17th St, exiting his school bus less than three blocks from the Marlboro Ave home that he shares with his parents and younger sister, Sophia.He was wearing a maroon Gotham Academy sweater, khaki pants, and carrying a black Nike backpack.Anyone with any information is urged to call Commissioner James Gordon at 201-555-3323, or Gotham Police Department’s anonymous tip line at 201-555-6673.**

**Petros’s disappearance comes amidst a string of similar cases of missing persons in the Burnley district, featured heavily in the media last month due to the CONTINUED ON PAGE B6**

 

Gotham Globe, December 15th, 2018

**NEW FINDINGS IN THE CASE OF THE BURNLEY GHOUL**

**In a tragic turn, Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham police department has confirmed that the remains found in an abandoned house in Burnley District last week include those of young Petros Dvorak, missing since late last month.He declined to comment on the condition in which he was found, but confirmed a connection between his disappearance and the bizarre corpse robberies committed by Angus “The Ghoul” Dervish, still at large.**

**The Ghoul, believed to be paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair, came to police notice when he was indicated by**

A drop of moisture fell to the page, darkening and crinkling the thin paper.He cringed back, lifting it and flapping it frantically in an attempt to dry it, to undo the damage. _Am I crying?_ He brought his hand to his eye, and felt the hot liquid seeping from its corner _Disgrace.I will never be respected again.What is my pulse?_

He pressed his damp fingers over his carotid. _142 beats per minute.Calm down, Hugo. You will fix this._ He closed his eyes, and began to breathe.He sat there breathing for fourteen minutes until his pulse slowed to 88. _fix this._

Hugo stood.He dragged his waste bin from beneath the desk and swept the clippings into its waiting mouth, erasing them from his room.On his way to the kitchen he grabbed rags and a broom from the closet and cleaned away the mess, the mistake, he had left on the floor.He spent ten minutes in his laboratory, administering eighteen grams of food to his cats.He recorded his results with a steady hand.He showered, brushed his teeth, and poured a glass of water for his bed side table.He laid out his clothes for the next day, making sure to tuck his revolver into the pocket of his pressed brown trousers. He laid his head on his goosedown pillow, and pulled his quilt over himself, shutting off the light before folding his hands on his chest and staring into the darkness. 

Now that he had performed a physical on The Ghoul, he could clear her for therapy.While sessions with high-risk patients ordinarily occurred in the more secure, video-monitored office conveniently located in the fifth sub-level, he would make an exception.As the only witness to their first session, he would add to his notes the willingness she expressed to cooperate in meetings, and her assurances of her future good behavior.A medical phobia was solely to blame for her earlier noncompliance that required staff intervention, and would not pose an issue to his carrying out their first session in his office.His familiar, unmonitored office.If she became violent, he was well within his rights to defend himself. _Why did I bring a gun to work, though?Who’s to say I don’t always?In fact, I probably should._

Dr. Hugo Strange shut his eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> The arc of the story is plotted out, though I'm unsure how many chapters it'll wind up being. I have three finished now, and feel reasonably confident in my ability to publish biweekly. Feel free to comment with critiques, suggestions, praise, general life advice, limericks, it's all good.


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